Sorry this is very long but please read this because i need help...
Hi, I am a 16 year old girl and have been struggling with hocd for about 2 years. It all started in 7th grade when I had an intense crush on a boy. Whenever I was around him I had butterflies and I actually wanted to marry him. He liked me too but he soon developed a crush on another girl and I wasn't even jealous because I didn't like him as much anymore. One night I was at a sleepover with my friend and I was laying on the couch when a thought popped into my head, "you don't like **** anymore, are you gay?" After that one thought, it has changed my life. ( I am not homophobic but I was always kinda uncomfortable around gay people at that age. But now I am not at homophobic or uncomfortable around gay people anymore)

A couple weeks later, I was seeking reassurance on being lesbian and stumbled across the term hold. I had all of the symptoms and felt better. But, the worrying didn't stop. In 7th grade I was only scared about "becoming" gay, I knew i wasn't but I was just scared i was "changing" into being gay. I went to my school guidance counselor and she told me that it was ok if I was gay and should learn to accept it, this heightened my worrying because I couldn't handle the fact of being gay. There were times where I was not worrying and then times where I was. After a while of being worried I didn't worry about it at all. I had some thoughts here and there but ignored them. It was the start of 8th grade (the grade I am in now) and I didn't worry about it. Then it was triggered again, (I forgot how). Soon my mind made me think I had crushes on every single one of my friends (who were girls). My mind said "If you aren't attracted to him, you're gay." It also started to change my past and say "you like her" even when I felt nothing for her when I was with her. Recently, I had a small panic attack at a restaurant where i couldn't eat any single thing (not even a small piece of rice) because I was worrying so much. My mind kept screaming "your bi!..." That night at the restaurant I planned to come out to my mom (my mom knows about my hocd) but the problem was that I didn't like any girls. I would also look at my friends (who were girls) and become jealous of them because they do not have to go what I go through. I would say in my head, "they are so lucky that they are straight. They are going to have the best relationship"

I then began to dig into my past (i still am) and there are some things that I have done as a child that i can use as proof that I am gay. Keep in mind that I have never been attracted to anyone of the same sex besides false attractions (which is not even real attraction). My mind would also say "All the girls think your older brother is cute, but you don't. This means your gay." And now that I am writing that, what on Earth was I thinking, am i stupid? Lol. I would also have false attractions for people on TV shows and have dreams and wake up feeling aroused and feeling that I liked it. I know that arousal doesn't mean your gay so it doesn't worry me at all.

I know that I like boys but I am just scared that I like girls to. I always wanted to have a boyfriend but now I do not as much. My mind is now saying "being with a girl isn't so bad." "it will be fun to be in a relationship with a girl" I have never dreamed about girls the way I have dreamed about boys and the only relationship I want with girls is friendship. But as i am writing this my mind is saying, "you wouldn't mind it, it would be fun!" Whenever I go out, it is just natural for me to want to impress a guy. I have never wanted to dress to impress a girl. I cant picture my future with a girl because its just not me. I also don't think it is necessary to come out because deep down I know i'm not.
I used to have bad intrusive thoughts, but now those thoughts aren't even...

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Hello all, I'm new here.
My sister gave birth and had really bad Postpartum Depression and she was already diagnosed with Bipolar disorder before hand. I have raised my nephew since he was born. She has a boyfriend, a little over a year now, and has recently moved to a different town. About 2 hours from where I live. I barely get to see him anyways because I have a very demanding job.
I had him over the summer for a week. He told me some information, and with my job I am a mandatory reporter (with a reporting number), and I ended up calling CPS on her. I went up at the beginning of December to see him for his birthday and give him his birthday gift.
She allowed me to see him for about an hour. After that she asked to talk when he was asleep. She asked why I had called CPS, I told her the circumstances, what was said to me, and the face that I'm a mandatory reporter. She told me "I'm your sister, you should have confronted me first." I again tried to explain to her if I don't report child abuse, I could not only go to jail but lose my licenses. She will probably never understand, but now she will not "ever" let me see him again.
I miss my nephew terribly. I hate that she has her thumb on him, and all control over him. Also, I fear for his safety around her boyfriend. I expressed this to CPS as well. The outcome was that they did a wellness check. They said, until they see bruises or broken bones they really can't do anything.
Recently, 8 years old now, they have been leaving him home alone. Unfortunately in Arizona there is no legal age at which you can leave a child home alone. But, if something happens to the child it is considered child neglect.
....... Ugh..... Stressful situation

From what I have been told, I was talking and walking by 9 months old. Perhaps it is an exaggeration, but I can attest to the ease I have experienced in school, with dealing with problems, and assessing the “right” behavior in situations.

I have had one imaginary friend, from what I can remember, since I was about two years old. I remember when he first knocked on the door, a back door with a mud room in my house, and I let him in. I would tease my Dad that he was my boy friend. He kept me wonderful company and was an enlightening, safe harbor. I remember another time when someone entered through this same door. I remember that I was handed a stuffed animal by this man, but I cannot recall any more.

When I was seven, I remember feeling sure that I could survive on my own, if only my parents would let me alone. In kindergarten, I could read chapter books and would forge my mother’s signature on the homework list each week. I remember wanting the independence from my mother to moderate my own life.

My favorite thing to do at that time was read. I had a children’s encyclopedia and learned about sexual reproduction in this fashion. I discovered an obsession with looking at Michael Angelo’s “David” sculpture. I would sit and look at it for different durations each day.

Between seven and nine, my parents split up (though, I had suspected it for over a year). At this time I began having very sexual, very vivid dreams. One dream I remember was of my self in a hotel room, seducing a much older, ugly man. I believe between six and seven I was sexually abused again, by the same close friend of my family that had been in my life much earlier, and that I had let into my home through the mud room door. I cannot remember it happening, but I have returned to a certain event when I remember I was alone with this person, and there are blank spots in my memory.

I started touching my self with my dolls or stuffed animals around this time, I don’t really understand why. I would “tell” my sister’s fortune by looking into my crystal ball. Around the same time I stopped feeling normal. When I saw myself in the mirror, I felt an intense, unnatural feeling. It was almost disgust. It increased when I had on feminine clothing. I still feel it, sometimes seemingly random and sometimes by noticeable triggers, to this day.

When I was nine, I realized that my father was not scary. I saw that he would raise his voice to intimidate me- and, I saw that it was just that- and that I was capable of it too. This led me to a strange relationship with aggression. I began to “dominate” my siblings, feel an anger that was confusing and overwhelming. I felt as if something in me was red fire hot, and I had no control over it, nor the ability to stop it, nor the knowledge of how it started. I felt like a victim while I victimized other people. And still, though less frequently and with more control to mask it, I have this sensation of being a puppet. At this time I also began trying to study witch craft and wanted to be a vampire. I would mediate and attempt to make spells.

By the time I was eleven, I was not only participating in on-line sex and wishing to be kissed by a boy at school, but I was finding attendance at school more difficult, as well as having increased bouts with anxiety and depression. This only worsened as I got older. And by fourteen, I was full blown suicidal. My parents attempted to get me help, but the doctors, therapists, teachers, and medication were so easily manipulated that no one could touch me.

I would get into these crazed, raging fits of frustration and aggression. I would yell, scream, shake, cry, weep, sob; I was frightening. I started “cutting” which was mostly scratching. I started messing around with older guys. I started lying and going out and trying to drink/party as much as possible. When my father would have a chance to sit and talk to me, he would try to hug me, but I would yell insults until he would give up. I remember ...

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Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

i am CONSTANTLY picking off scabs and pimples on my face and even more so on my back. it's so embarrassing because i have tons of scars on my back and luckily on my face it isn't so bad. but whenever a new pimple or scab appears i pick it right away. i don't know why i do it. i don't even think about it when i am doing it. i don't have any disorders so i don't know if this is one and i want to know if i may have something that needs to be checked out.